


The Real Thing

by orphan_account



Category: Free!
Genre: Awkward Haruka, Getting used to cohabitation, M/M, Past Abuse, Probably not quite what you're expecting, Rated for things other than sex, The result of me taking hybrid AUs way too seriously, dogboy!Makoto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:49:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto needs to feel human again, and Haruka needs someone to blast him out of his comfort zone. It's a happy accident, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the long and lonely night

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a Dogboy!Makoto fic that dealt with him seriously as a character, but I couldn't find one, so I wrote one. This is a bit of a departure from the norm for me, since I usually write Makoto in some kind of, I don't know, more powerful position? He's either a Dom or an unusually powerful vampire in my other fics. I guess I wanted to try and portray him as that same kind of emotionally strong character, but in a socially "inferior" position, to see how those different circumstances might affect him.

It's a sad, hushed affair when Haruka's parents have to give him custody of Makoto. Their work schedules are too packed to take care of him, despite their private support of hybrid rights, so there's a certain level of shame and apology in their voices when they explain the situation to their son over the phone. His aunt's boyfriend, the dogboy's initial owner, had been unfit to care for him, they say carefully, vague enough about the specifics that Haruka understands.

He's good, they tell him, helpful and kind. He doesn't like storms or deep water, and Haruka shouldn't watch anything scary when he's in earshot. They assure him Makoto will be no trouble at all, and remind him dutifully that Makoto is a person coming to live with him, not an animal. Haruka has heard this reminder his entire life, and he believes it. He hangs up the phone and wanders across the house to inspect the spare bedroom that's rarely been used.

It's stuffy and clouds of dust rise when Haruka pats the bed, but he's never minded doing housework. He strips the bed, opens the window, wipes the bookshelf and the dresser and vacuums. He feels awkward as he goes through the motions, unable to picture his future housemate in his mind. He's seen hybrids on the news, he knows to expect ears and a tail, but he can't quite mentally adjust to the thought of sharing his house and his life with another person, someone with a schedule and habits and, well, humanity. Individuality.

He wants to be compassionate and he's resolved to accommodate Makoto as much as he can, but he's apprehensive, almost afraid to live with someone after a life comprised of occasional, perfunctory interactions with his family and their acquaintances, and not much else. He doesn't want to think of Makoto as broken - he knows he wouldn't appreciate that if it were him - but he's not sure how to behave around someone with the kind of traumatic past his parents had implied.

He hovers nervously around the house, hopping in and out of the bath and periodically going back to the spare room - Makoto's room - to dust the ceiling fan or flap the clean sheets back to air, until it's time to drive to the airport to pick Makoto up. He hopes nobody's bothered Makoto on his way to Iwatobi - hybrids occasionally travel on their own, but it's not exactly common, and there are a handful of people who think nothing of treating them like real animals. He's grateful for the long drive. It calms him down and focuses him, clears his mind of the anxiety that's plagued him since his parents' phone call.

When he arrives at the airport, he panics momentarily, realizing he has no idea what Makoto looks like. Then again, he figures there won't be many hybrids without owners wandering around. After a tense few minutes of standing there and trying to look busy, he hears a call of his name from the crowd of people milling about.

"Nanase? Haruka Nanase?" There's a dogboy with floppy retriever ears standing several yards away, not holding any luggage, looking as lost as Haruka feels. The thought comforts him somehow. He makes his way over, waving at him to catch his attention.

"Makoto?" He turns and notices Haruka, smiling briefly and raising his hand halfway, like he's not sure if he should wave back.

"Yes, that's me." Makoto looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't, shifting from foot to foot and looking at Haruka, not quite meeting his eyes. 

"I - uh, do you need to get your luggage before we go?" 

"I don't have any." 

"Oh. Okay. I'm parked right outside, so you can, uh, follow me." Haruka mentally smacks himself.  _I'm parked outside._ Of course he is. It's not like he'd park right in the baggage claim. He hopes Makoto is disoriented enough from the flight that he won't focus on Haruka's struggle to communicate like a functional adult.

The drive home feels longer than the drive there, and significantly less relaxing. Haruka doesn't know what to say to Makoto beyond  _I hope your trip went well_ and  _Let me know if you need anything._  Makoto nods and shakes his head, smiling softly. It looks more like a reflex than an expression of happiness, and something about it makes Makoto look sad in an odd way.Haruka doesn't mean to stare, he really doesn't, but his eyes are drawn to Makoto's profile. His ears look like he was probably crossed with a golden retriever, and they really don't stand out too much, just a shade lighter than his hair. The sun is low, just skirting the treeline, and the flashes of light through the car window cast angular shadows across Makoto's face, making him look ethereal.

Haruka is jolted out of his thoughts when he realizes he's missed his turn. He looks sheepishly at Makoto as he pulls into someone's driveway to turn around.

"Sorry, I missed my turn." Makoto shrugs but doesn't say anything. He's looking unceasingly at Haruka without directly focusing on him, and it's making him nervous. Somehow Makoto doesn't feel real to him yet. He's relieved and anxious as he turns onto his street, wanting the awkward drive to be over but knowing what's to come will be infinitely more nerve-wracking. 

When he pulls into the garage, Haruka fumbles with his keys, letting out a startled and uncharacteristic curse as he feels around under the seat for them. He looks sideways at Makoto, who looks... off, somehow, but Haruka can't place exactly what's wrong. He holds the door for Makoto as they enter his house, because he just feels like he ought to for some reason.

"So, your room's in the back, last one in the hallway. It's the second door down from mine," he says, after an uncomfortable few moments where he isn't sure how close he should stand to Makoto or what to do with his hands. "I, uh, I'll show you, come on," and Makoto follows him to the back of the house. 

"Thank you," Makoto says when they're standing in the doorway. He doesn't seem really focused on the room. He gives Haruka that look again, the wanting-to-say-something look, and this time he does: "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." 

"What is- well, I mean, I spoke to your parents before I came here, and I didn't want to just assume you shared their views because they said you did." 

"Their views?" 

Makoto bites his lip. "I don't mean to seem too forward, but I'd like to know what this - what this is. The dynamic you want." Haruka blinks at him before it sinks in. 

"I do agree with them," he says quietly. "I just basically figured we could make this a normal roommate arrangement, as far as possible." 

"Okay. Just know that I'm not going to - to make a fuss, or anything, if you don't want that. It's fine either way." The conversation is starting to make Haruka slightly nauseous. His mind is producing the darkest possible interpretations of Makoto's vague wording, but he hopes that in particular wasn't what Makoto had dealt with before.  _Unfit to care for him,_ his parents had said. That could mean anything. It didn't necessarily imply that Makoto had-

"Nanase-san? I'm sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?" Haruka snaps out of his thoughts when Makoto speaks. He looks worried, and Haruka realizes he must have been spacing out.

"No, you're fine," he says thoughtlessly. "I mean. It's. You didn't do anything." He'd like to know- well, he'd like to know a lot of things about this situation: the kind of life Makoto has come from, precisely what his parents told Makoto about him, what Makoto thinks of him, how his life is going to have to adjust to accommodate someone he barely knows but can't turn away. He doesn't feel like he can ask Makoto any of these things, so he settles for: "Makoto, look, I don't want to own you." 

Makoto's dog ears flatten, and while he does a remarkable job of keeping his mild expression static, Haruka can see that he's said the wrong thing. 

"I understand, Nanase-san, that's okay. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I'll try my best not to-"

"No- Makoto, that's not what- damn." Haruka feels like smashing his head into the doorframe. He'd known he wouldn't be any good at dealing with a traumatized person, had foreseen something like this happening, given that he was blunt enough to offend even perfectly happy, well-adjusted people. "I want you around. I just don't want to - to order you around, or whatever owners do. But I want you around. Okay?"

It's not a lie. He's uncomfortable, yes, he's feeling awkward and useless in the face of problems like Makoto's. Haruka doesn't like pity, not when it comes to his own problems, but the brief, vague hints of Makoto's damage, the slight alterations in his behavior and how Makoto seems to accept them as normal, make him sad and sick in a way that overrides his antisocial temper.

"You just... want me to be like a roommate, then?" Makoto looks relieved but guarded, as if he expects Haruka to change his mind. 

"Yeah. If that's okay with you. I'm sorry-"  _I'm sorry I can't talk to people, sorry whatever happened to you happened, sorry you have to recover with me instead of someone who knows what they're doing._ "-sorry it came out the way it did."

"Oh, it's alright, Nanase-san, it was my bad. Don't worry about it." Haruka opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and shakes his head. Now is probably not the time to argue with Makoto about self-deprecation.

"Okay." He looks at Makoto, who seems... not smaller, he's a good several inches taller than Haruka, but more unobtrusive than anyone he's ever met. Makoto looks like he's made an art of being living furniture, constant and convenient but uninteresting and unnoticed. He's so thoroughly and deliberately this way that Haruka finds himself fascinated, wanting to elicit some kind of self-assertion or forcefulness. He wonders if this is how people feel when faced with his own "I don't care" approach to life.

"Are you hungry?" He asks Makoto. They've been standing in silence long enough, and Haru has only just noticed the fading light outside. He'd been too nervous to eat before going to get Makoto, and now that he's thinking about it, it's hard to focus on anything but food.

"Kind of. It is getting a bit late, isn't it?" Makoto smiles that odd, unreal smile at him again. Haruka turns to walk towards the kitchen, and Makoto follows him. His apron feels weird when he puts it on over his clothes - he normally cooks in his swimsuit, after getting out of the bath. Rationally, he knows it's not that dramatic of a change, but it adds to the mounting awkwardness that's been bothering him all day.

Haruka automatically begins preparing to grill mackerel - it occurs to him halfway through the process that there's another person in the house with him, a person whose culinary preferences he knows nothing about. He feels a prickle of guilt, and thinks he probably ought to have asked Makoto what he wanted.

"Do you, uh, like fish?" Makoto looks up at him from where he'd been intently studying the fake marbling on the other side of the counter.

"Sure. Anything's fine, really," he says. He looks like he's subconsciously trying to curl himself into the space between the edge of the counter and the refrigerator, and Haruka's mouth twitches minutely before he can stop it. Makoto's tall, his legs are long, and his shoulders substantially outspan Haruka's. He shouldn't feel like laughing, but the sight is endearingly comical.

"Good." Haruka says. This is a strange reversal of how he usually handles social encounters - he feels like he should talk to Makoto, like he'd be doing something wrong if he didn't. The silence he reflexively falls into whenever he's alone with someone is suddenly uncomfortable. He wants to talk, but isn't sure what to say. He eventually settles on a topic that will probably equip him with useful information in order to make this less awkward in the future.

"Makoto."

"What is it?" 

"I was just wondering. Since you're, well, living here, is there anything you want me to get?" Makoto uncurls slightly from his ineffective hiding place and blinks at him. 

"What kind of things, exactly?" 

Haruka flips the fillets over. They're not overcooked by any means, but they're a tad more done than he usually makes them. It'll do. He thinks he's functioning remarkably well, considering. He leaves them to cook and pops a Pyrex container of leftover rice in the microwave. He hope it's enough for two.

"Just, I don't know, food. Ingredients for stuff. Clothes, since you didn't bring any." 

"Well..." Makoto is standing up straight now. Haruka thinks the curling in on himself must be a purely subconscious thing - he hadn't expressed any embarrassment upon realizing he'd squeezed himself awkwardly between the counter and a kitchen appliance.

"I do like green curry, I guess. If you want to get ingredients for something, that'd be good." 

"Okay." Food. A specific food that Makoto likes. A food that Haruka can feasibly make. He's never put much stock in objectivity or logic, but the fact of it, the opportunity to plan to do something and then do it, is grounding and focusing somehow. 

"As far as clothes, I don't really care. You don't have to get any." 

Haruka looks at him. The mackerel sizzles in the silence.

"Okay," Makoto sighs. "I just- t-shirts and stuff? I guess? Nothing flashy."  

Haruka turns off the burner. "Can you get a couple plates? They're in the cabinet in front of you." He doesn't normally forget to take them out beforehand. Haruka has to stretch to reach the cabinets himself, and Makoto does too, although not as dramatically. The curve of Makoto's spine draws his eyes to the golden tail that starts just above his jeans. He wonders if Makoto ever wags it when he's happy. He thinks it would be impolite to ask, but the image is oddly adorable.

"Thank you." Makoto hums in affirmation, and Haruka deposits the fish and rice on their plates. 

"Uh, it'll take it a while to brew since I didn't make it earlier, but I can start some tea if you want," he says. Makoto looks up from setting the plates on the table.

"You don't have to if it'd be a bother," he says. Haruka thinks that his parents had understated considerably when they told him Makoto would be no trouble. He was negative trouble. Trouble probably combusted when it got within five feet of him.

"Do you want any?" 

"Like I said, not if-"

"Do you actually want any, regardless? I don't mind." Haruka hates to cut him off, but he can sense Makoto going in mental circles. 

"Sure," he says finally. "Tea sounds perfect."

They eat in relative silence after Haruka starts a pot of tea. He's grateful they're both hungry. It gives him an excuse to be quiet. He can tell Makoto's ravenous, even though he's doing his best to rein it in. He can't help wondering if Makoto hasn't eaten since he left Haruka's parents' house. The only interruption of his thoughts is when Makoto looks at the oven clock and goes to retrieve the tea from where it's been steeping.

"Need any help with the dishes?" Makoto asks him when they're done. Haruka shakes his head.  

"There's not much to do. If you wanna just - go get settled in or whatever, that's fine." Makoto turns to leave the kitchen, and stops midway as if he's had a sudden thought.

"Oh, uh, Nanase-san?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Sorry, but do you mind if I use your shower?" Haruka mentally rolls his eyes. Makoto's living here, it's not like he's going to kick him out to shower somewhere else.

"Go ahead." 

"Thanks, Nanase-san." Makoto says, and starts walking away. Haruka opens his mouth, closes it, and decides to voice something that's sort of been bothering him. 

"Uh, Makoto?" 

"What is it?" 

"If you could - ah, it just feels kind of weird using your first name and you using my surname. So. You know." He doesn't know why he's stuttering. It made perfect sense in his head.

"Do you want me to call you Haruka?" 

"Haru." 

Makoto blinks at him. "Oh. Okay. Haru, then." 

Haruka nods jerkily and returns to the dishes. He doesn't quite want to admit to someone he just met earlier that day that he's embarrassed by his first name and his last name makes him sound like his father. What he'd told Makoto hadn't been entirely untrue, but it wasn't the main reason.

There's something oddly reassuring about the faint sounds of Makoto moving around in the bathroom that carry over to Haruka's ears. He's slightly less resigned and slightly more anticipatory than he was at the beginning of the day. The extra dishes don't even bother him - he's never minded doing housework.

 


	2. better this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the one where they have a horrifically awkward shopping trip! TW for depression and anxiety, I suppose. Although this fic may as well be one big trigger warning.

Haruka feels it early in the morning. The  _thing_ that always happens at the worst possible times, when there's no excuse for it and it only makes him seem self-absorbed. He doesn't take a bath, which is normally his go-to method for calming himself down, because the fatigue is so heavy he's worried he'll slip under the water and fall asleep.

He doesn't want to leave his bed, but he can't quite go back to sleep, so he pads into the kitchen, where he stares into the refrigerator for several minutes, trying to make his mind acknowledge that he needs to eat. He can't do it.

He dreads the inevitability of Makoto waking up and finding him. He's gotten very good at faking normalcy over the years, so it shouldn't be that bad, but presenting an unaffected front isn't really the problem. He can't look at a person who has every legitimate reason to be immobilized with hopelessness, but still isn't. The thought of it fans the monstrous guilt that Haruka has spent so long trying to tame.

He tells himself not to be so dramatic about it - he's probably just rattled by Makoto's sudden arrival - and accidentally makes it worse by thinking like that. _Makoto was probably abused. Makoto's been bought and sold like an animal. You're not allowed to be uncomfortable with him in the house. You're not allowed to feel sad around someone who's been through so much worse._  He thinks back over his behavior yesterday, how awkward and tense he'd been, how he'd accidentally made Makoto uncomfortable by telling him he didn't want to own him. The rational part of his mind tells him he's just doing the best he can and he's been better with Makoto than he usually is with strange people, but it doesn't manage to break through the self-aimed disgust that's slowing his ability to reason.

He's still spiraling into self-hatred when he hears footsteps in the living room. Makoto is fully dressed, unlike Haruka, who hadn't been functional enough to put on anything besides his boxers and the t-shirt he'd slept in, and he has dark circles under his eyes. 

"Good morning, Na- uh, Haru," he says. "Can I help you with anything?" His voice cracks like he's still half-asleep. Haruka wonders why he didn't just sleep in. He's surprised when something similar to relief floods him upon seeing Makoto. He's still exhausted; he still can't stomach the thought of interacting with the world, but it's just - looking at him reminds Haruka that Makoto is someone he can do things for. He's doing something worthwhile with his time if he's good to Makoto, and something about that fact soothes him, calms his repetitive despairing thoughts.

Maybe it's because he's slightly more awake now, but Haruka feels grounded, better able to focus. He's not _really_ better,not even approaching the remotest outskirts of better, but he can find it within himself to shift the oppressive  _thing_ into his peripheral vision for the moment and pay attention to Makoto. 

"Sure, if you want. You could toast a couple pieces of bread, if you don't mind." He dimly registers that he's probably overusing phrases like  _if you want to_ and  _if you don't mind,_  but Makoto is just so... Makoto that he figures he could stand some overuse of phrases like that.

Haruka feels something in his mind shift and click into place as he turns around to reach into the refrigerator.  _You can't be like this around Makoto_ fades into a sort of white noise, in favor of thoughts like  _I hope Makoto's okay with just toast and yogurt for now; I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while._

"Makoto?" 

"Yea- yes?" His voice hitches and turns high-pitched when he changes words halfway through, and his hand slips away from the door of the toaster oven too fast, slamming it closed. Haruka briefly raises an eyebrow before he turns back to face Makoto. They're roughly the same age, right? Saying "yeah" instead of "yes" should be fine, Makoto doesn't need to be so formal.  

"Do you want granola in your yogurt?" Makoto looks at him for a moment, a sort of panicked expression on his face, before replying in the affirmative. Haru files it away to think about, maybe to ask about if he and Makoto are ever that close.

Breakfast is about as quiet as dinner had been yesterday. It's hard for Haruka to chew, and he's sort of glad he doesn't have the ingredients to put anything more complicated together. He's been through that before - he starts making something out of habit on one of his bad days, and inevitably leaves it on the stove too long or forgets something vital like salt. It always sends him to an even darker place when that happens - rationally, he knows it's not that big of a deal, but any small mistake or inadequacy is enough to set off a downward spiral when he feels like this.

To distract himself from this line of thought, he looks at Makoto. Haruka notices that he eats quickly, focusing on nothing but his food, as if he's worried someone might decide he's taking too long and snatch it from him. He feels coldly furious at his aunt and her boyfriend when he considers that this might have been exactly the case when they owned him. His - well, not uncle, Haruka doesn't like the thought that he might be related to him one day - hadn't made a good impression on the rest of his family, and he knows his mother worries that he's too controlling towards her sister, although Haruka's aunt maintains that everything is fine.

He's drawn out of his thoughts by a quiet "Excuse me," and he looks up questioningly at Makoto before realizing he's not going to say anything else; he's getting up to put his dishes in the sink and he's actually just that polite.

Makoto washes his bowl and plate while Haruka finishes eating, and since he apparently can't bear to watch Haruka do his own dishes without helping, he asks where the dish towels are kept and starts drying for him. Haruka feels the same mixture of gratitude, surprise, and discomfort that he had yesterday. He doesn't really mind having help with things like this; it just sets him a little off-kilter to have his routine that he's gone by for several years changed, even in a good way.

He's a little overwhelmed by the intensity with which he does not want to leave the house, but there are some things that really need attending to before much longer. When they're done putting the dishes away, he turns to Makoto.

"Do you want to go shopping today?" 

Makoto just looks at him. "For what?" 

"Clothes. For you." 

"Oh, I'm sorry, you mentioned that yesterday. I, uh, sure, I guess." Makoto's still holding the dish towel and twisting it between his hands. Haruka wants to tell him _Don't worry,_ _I'm uncomfortable with it too, believe me,_ but then he'd have to explain why and that's far too personal of a topic.

"There's a department store half an hour away," he says. "We can go whenever you're ready." Haruka hopes that will be soon. He doesn't want to drive, doesn't want to be around other people, doesn't want to interact with the cashier - but he _does_ want Makoto to have something other than one shirt and one pair of jeans. He's trying very hard not to make the state he's in obvious, because Makoto would inevitably think he was being a burden and insist that they not go today, and Haruka would be too tired and sad to explain that it was nothing to do with him, that it was just something that happened occasionally and didn't discriminate based on the importance of whatever Haruka needed to do that day.

Makoto assures him that he just needs five minutes and disappears briefly into the back bathroom - Haruka is surprised when he only takes maybe three minutes more than that to get ready, most people mean half an hour when they say that - and then he's standing at Haruka's bedroom door, waiting quietly as he puts his shoes on. 

"Sorry if I took a while, Haru," he says when Haruka looks up. He looks tense, anticipatory, like he thinks-

 _He thinks I'm going to hit him,_ Haruka'smind supplies. He's not sure precisely what about Makoto's countenance tipped him off, but he can tell. He has no idea _why_ Makoto would think that - well, he generally does, but he doesn't know what about the situation made him think Haruka was going to hit him. He's incredibly disturbed by the realization that he's probably setting off triggers for Makoto all over the place, but he has no idea what they are or how to stop doing it.

"It's fine." Haruka mumbles, and when he looks up at Makoto again once he's done tying his shoes, he feels like he should probably add: "You can take as long as you want." 

Makoto bites his lip. He looks less fearful now, if not entirely relaxed. Haruka knows it'd be an unreasonable thing to ask for, but he wants a comprehensive list of every word and action that might make Makoto panic so he can avoid them all. A little of his numb despair melts away in the heat of his anger at Makoto's first owner, and then melts even further when he takes a good look at Makoto's almost sheepish expression and is overcome with the ridiculous urge to pet his hair and ears. That would probably come off as demeaning.

"Okay," Makoto says. Haruka's mouth twitches minutely, and he stands up to grab his jacket from the chair it's draped across. 

"You ready to go?" He asks Makoto. 

"Yes," Makoto says, not _sharply_ , that's not the right word, but sort of automatically. It's weird, and it almost reminds Haruka of a soldier barking out "Yes, sir!" He mentally files it away with that odd moment in the kitchen earlier.

As they're walking into the garage, it occurs to Haruka to wonder if Makoto can drive. He doesn't know when he would've had time to learn, but he hopes he can, or that he'd at least be legally allowed to if he ever wanted to try. That seems like it'd be an inappropriate thing to ask about all of a sudden, though. 

Once he's in the driver's seat, Haruka leans over and opens Makoto's door for him. Makoto looks at him as he's climbing into the passenger seat, and keeps looking at him as he turns the key and backs out of the driveway. Haruka doesn't say anything as they're leaving the neighborhood, but once they're on a straight road with little to no traffic, he feels that same gnawing compulsion to talk to Makoto that had bugged him the other night. He lowers his eyes to the dash momentarily and realizes that, in his tense anticipation of interacting with someone, he's been speeding a little, which he almost never does. He lets up on the gas pedal and takes in a breath, deciding to get it over with.

"Is there anything you like doing?" He asks. Makoto just looks at him for a moment, and Haruka wonders if he heard him. 

"I guess so," he says slowly. He sounds like he's treading on a minefield and trying not to blow himself up. "What kind of stuff are you talking about, exactly?"

"I don't know," Haru says. "Stuff. Like watching movies or, or going swimming. Just stuff." He mentally berates himself for mentioning swimming - hadn't his parents said something about him not liking water? But he's trying to drive and make non-problematic conversation with someone who has bad memories associated with - with units of time, with the word "yeah." He doesn't know how to do this without overstepping any lines.

"I like documentaries," Makoto says. "And swimming. But just in pools, not in... natural water, I guess." 

"I have some nature documentaries," Haru says. "They're mostly about sea life, the polar ice caps, stuff like that." As he says it, he realizes that's probably an odd thing to have in excess, but he does, and at least it's apparently something Makoto will like. Makoto just kind of nods when he says it, like he's not sure how to answer, so Haru, feeling like he's been replaced by those bodysnatching aliens from that American horror movie he saw a few years ago, keeps talking. 

"I have a pool. We can get you a swimsuit if you want to use it," he says, and Makoto visibly perks up a little. 

"Thank you," he says. "That's really generous," and Haru mumbles _welcome_ ,  _it's_ _fine_ rather than yelling _oh my god Makoto we're sharing the house, of course you can use the stuff attached to it,_ because that would definitely be a bodysnatched thing for him to do, and he doesn't want to scare Makoto. 

He almost misses his turn thinking about bodysnatchers and Makoto using his pool, and is reminded suddenly of the fact that he'll have to be in a crowded department store and he has _no_ _choice_ but to speak to the cashier when he's buying the clothes. He grips the steering wheel tighter and tries to calm himself with the thought that Makoto is quite functional, at least in all the basic, necessary ways, and he's been through so much worse. He tries to push down the gloom that settles at that thought, but he can't, and the warm, normal glow that Makoto's presence had brought on earlier that morning mostly dissipates.

Makoto stays in the car for a long moment when Haruka parks and gets out. He snaps out of whatever he was thinking about when Haruka knocks on his window, and follows him into the store. It's excessively _bright_. Haruka's lights at home, while not dim, are conservatively used, and he tends to just forget about it after a while if a bulb goes out. The store feels alien, ridiculously huge and a claustrophobic nightmare at the same time. Haruka is glad that Makoto's walking close to him - while he's certainly not a comfortable fixture of his everyday life yet, he's less scary than their surroundings.

To the general public's credit, Makoto doesn't get too many _looks_. Haruka does notice, however, that the woman supervising the dressing rooms doesn't speak to him, addressing Haruka instead even though Makoto is the one going in to try things on. It's like - well, it's like he's a pet owner, and it makes him feel vaguely ill on behalf of his new housemate, although Makoto isn't visibly upset by it. He doesn't even really seem to register that it's happening, which bothers Haruka more than a little. He's heard his entire life that the way hybrids are treated is unfair, but to see such casual, offhanded proof of it is disturbing in a way he hadn't anticipated.

Makoto comes out with a pair of jeans and two T-shirts, one orange and one black. Haruka wants to pull him aside and say "Look, you're a person and people usually own more than three shirts," but he thinks Makoto might manage to take that the wrong way, or even worse, tell him that didn't apply to him. Instead, he wanders over to a rack of button-down shirts and grabs an extra-large red plaid one at random, gesturing for a confused Makoto to take it. 

He looks at the floor and tries to calm himself as they leave the men's casual clothing section, having unwillingly exchanged several words with the sales assistant. As he's doing this, he notices that Makoto's sneakers are worn thin, the soles starting to peel away in some places.

"You need new shoes," he tells him. Makoto just says _okay_ and follows him, still looking confused. Haruka knows he's been talking more than he usually does since Makoto got here, but his dislike of his current surroundings has made him revert to the short, blunt sentences that most people associate with him. He hopes Makoto doesn't think he's upset with him or anything because of the abrupt change.

"Haru?" Makoto asks him, after they've left the shoe department with a new pair of sneakers, which Makoto had looked very uncomfortable trying on, as if he thought he shouldn't be in the middle of a store and finding things to buy.  

"Yeah," Haruka says. They're aimlessly wandering in the general direction of the register, which Haruka dreads immensely.

"I - you know, it's not that important." 

"Just tell me," Haruka says. He's got the nagging feeling that he maybe should have done something else, gone somewhere else, but he can't quite place it. 

"It's kind of an - extra thing, so I really don't think you need to bother with it. Just forget I brought it up." 

"It's fine anyway," Haruka says. "Tell me what it was."

"I - it's - oh my god, I can't. It really isn't necessary." 

Haruka lets that sink in for a moment. He thinks back to the nagging feeling that Makoto needed something they hadn't gotten. 

"Oh. You. Oh. Right," he says intelligently. Makoto is blushing so hard Haruka thinks he might faint from so much blood to the head, and Haruka isn't really faring much better.

"What size do you need?" He asks Makoto. Makoto mumbles that he's a large, and folds his arms around himself like he's trying to hide.

Haruka adjusts his grip on the bags they already have, steels himself, and takes a breath. 

"Um. Boxers or briefs?" He asks Makoto. They're both standing stock-still in front of a display of sports headbands, discussing Makoto's underwear preferences, almost total strangers and far more embarrassed than they ought to be. He hears a huff of air from Makoto, and his own mouth twitches minutely. Then Makoto accidentally catches his eye, and their respective awkwardly twitching expressions start melting into real laughter. Haruka feels ridiculous, and he knows they both look ridiculous, but he can't keep the nervous hysteria from bubbling up, and neither, it seems, can Makoto.

He's got tears collecting in his eyes by the time he manages to calm down, and if they had managed to avoid stares in the beginning, they've ruined that beyond repair now. But Haruka is beginning to feel that warm, normal glow again, despite his complete embarrassment and the confused employee who comes over to see if he needs help, and it remains within him as he blushes his way through buying underwear for his new housemate.

He is not better, and neither is Makoto, and he isn't quite secure in the belief that he can ever bring himself to enter this particular store again. But for the time being, he lets himself bask in this thing that's happening right now, and how good it is.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for this chapter: Simon by Lifehouse. Also, I am mostly back and I'll be attempting to actually make headway on my multichapter stories.


	3. a place to rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING FOR PAST SEXUAL ABUSE AND RELATED BREAKDOWNS. This is the first legitimate Angst Chapter, and I apologize for it being so short, but I just didn't feel the need to drag out the subject matter any more. This chapter was difficult to write on many levels.

It's been five days with Makoto. He got here on a Sunday, which Haru counts as one, and now it's Friday. Haru usually spends Friday afternoons in the bath or watching B-rated horror flicks, or balancing his laptop on a chair next to the tub so he can do both.

Haru doesn't feel like that would be the right thing to do on this particular Friday, for some reason. 

Makoto sleeps in the room next to Haru's. There's another guest room down the hall from Makoto's room, and Haru had thought about putting him in there, but he'd had the irrational thought that it might look... insulting? Rude? Something like that if he kept an empty room in between himself and Makoto. Thanks to this arrangement, Haru can hear Makoto when he gets out of bed to pace around the room, when he thrashes around in his sleep, and when he cries.

He doesn't know what to do. 

Makoto has spent two nights weeping since he came to live with Haru, and Haru is massively bothered by it but not in the sense that it keeps him awake. His sleep schedule was just as unhealthy before Makoto came, and to be honest, he feels like he's more tired at night now that he has someone to interact with.

He doesn't know if talking to Makoto would make it worse, if he would even know what to say. When it happens, Haru can just hear a gasp or a small, choked sound often enough to know Makoto is still crying, but it's obvious that he's trying to be silent.

Haru has always cried quietly, as far as he can remember. He just sort of gets to a point where the tears have to fall out, and they do that of their own accord and then he's done. It's like relaxing a muscle. What Makoto does is different. It sounds painful, not quietly resigned, and Haru knows he should probably try to help, but he just doesn't know _what_ _to_ _do_.

Right now, he's in the kitchen, perched on the counter and playing a game on his phone about deep sea creatures. He has his Loosejaw-kun T-shirt on, which always boosts his enthusiasm for the game. But he can't quite focus on it, because Makoto is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea and looking as exhausted as if he's been running a marathon every day he's been here. Haru thought his sleep habits were bad, but they're nothing compared to the state Makoto's in.

Apparently he's been staring, because Makoto looks up from his tea and asks,

"What's wrong, Haru?" 

"Well..." Haru isn't sure how to phrase it. Makoto seems to be prone to thinking he's done something wrong every time Haru opens his mouth. He sighs, saves and closes his game, and looks back to Makoto.

"I'm just a little worried," he says. 

Makoto looks absolutely horrified. It's not the reaction Haru was expecting at all. Hell, nothing Makoto has done in the past five days has been the reaction Haru was expecting. 

"I'm so sorry. Was I acting too aggressive? This is why I was nervous about living alone with someone," he says, looking on the verge of tears. 

"Wait, no -" Haru says, but Makoto doesn't seem to hear him. 

"It's not like you think it is at all. People are always worried about - well - male... people like me, but I promise I'd never, Haru, please, you have to believe me -"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Haru asks. "I was just worried about you because I know you haven't been sleeping." 

"Oh," Makoto says, in a small voice, and the tears finally start to spill down his face.

"What's going _on_?" Haru demands. "What are you sorry about?" 

"I just thought... Haru, I don't want to say it, I really don't want to."

"But..." Haru's head is spinning from the situation. "Come on, you can't just... I want to know what's going on with you. I'm completely lost here." Makoto hiccups a sob and looks at him, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the backs of his hands.

"I thought you knew I was... going into rut." He whispers. "God, Haru, please, I'd never ever, I _wouldn't_ \-  It's not like breeders say it is. It's just miserable and I want to be alone until it's over. It _hurts_."

"I, uh, I don't know anything about hybrid breeders. I'm... sorry you have to go through that, but... I don't understand. Why'd you freak out when I said I was worried?" 

Makoto slides his hands into his hair and clenches, looking down at the table. His voice is somewhat muffled when it reaches Haru. 

"Please don't think I'm saying anything bad about your aunt and... that guy, Haru, I'm really not. But he - I - he noticed I was in rut and, well..." Haru thinks he isn't going to finish the sentence, but after a long pause, he says, "Threatened me, and... wanted... well... he filmed me doing... stuff... because I was 'feral' and he thought... I don't know what he thought." 

Haru just looks at him for a long moment.

"What?" He says blankly. His brain isn't functioning at full capacity right now.

"I'm sorry," Makoto says miserably. "It should only last like three more days, I'm sorry if it's keeping you awake -" Haru cuts him off.

"I... what? That's... illegal, right? Doing that to someone? How'd he get away with doing that to you?"

Makoto shrugs. Haru exhales and mimics him, putting his head in his hands also. 

"I want to help you, but I really have absolutely no idea how to do that. I'm sorry," he tells Makoto. "You should have a real counselor or someone and you're stuck with me. I'm sorry."

Haru had kind of heard rumors about hybrids going into heats and ruts like real animals, but he'd never really thought anyone would be sick enough to put that burden on someone.

He's still trying to process the fact that Makoto had been sexually violated - he'd always, always had bad vibes around his aunt's boyfriend, but _this_? _Makoto_? Sweet, polite, helpful Makoto? The same person who'd blushed uncontrollably upon realizing that he needed to shop for underwear? He's beyond anger, in sort of a numb, bewildered state. Makoto doesn't seem to be faring much better. His head is still in his hands. Haru is sure that if he unclenched them, strands of hair would come off as well.

Haru doesn't wait for Makoto to respond. Instead, he takes Makoto's mostly-empty cup, goes to the kitchen counter to refill it, and sets it down in front of him.  

"I'm sorry," he says again. "I don't know what to do, but I got you some more tea." 

Makoto loosens his vice grip on his hair gradually and clears his throat. His hair is a wreck from being pulled on for so long. He wraps his hands around the cup.

"Thank you for the tea," he says. Haru just nods awkwardly. He doesn't feel like it would be right for him to leave, so he sits across from Makoto and observes him as he sips his tea. He feels oddly calmed by the sight.

Makoto tosses and turns audibly for hours after he goes to bed, and he gets up and paces at 3 AM that night, but there are no tears.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if it's entirely relevant, but I listened to Make You Mine by Clientele and I Would Do Anything For You by Foster the People a lot while writing this. I think the second one is most closely related to the fic.


End file.
